


Photograph

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Journalist AU, Photographer AU, Smut, Violence, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: As a journalist, the reader hides her identity as the superhero, Moonlighter, from her photographer co-worker, Sam Winchester.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Kudos: 37





	Photograph

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Fluff Bingo 2019, this fills the square Superhero AU.

“Can you run these beside your article?”

His voice sliced through the thick tangle of thoughts cluttering her mind. Time stretched, slowing until it hung suspended as Sam Winchester’s photographs slid across her desk. A hooded woman in a dark suit leaped across building tops, illuminated by the silvery moon high in the sky. Artistic though they were, the surreal sensation of seeing herself captured on camera sickened her to the bottom of her stomach.

“Y/N? Aren’t you writing the article on the… what are they calling her?” Sam asked.

“Moonlighter.”

“Wow.”

She pulled her eyes from the photographs to look at him. “It’s terrible, I know. I tried not to use it but nothing I wrote stuck. Everyone keeps calling her Moonlighter. Like she’s some sort of joke.”

Sam’s scoff mirrored her own irritation. “She’s doing some pretty awesome things for the city. And she’s giving me a run for my money. I’ve had to do four stakeouts overnight hoping to get a glimpse of her. Never did.”

Her blood ran cold, numbing her fingers and toes as her gaze fell back to the pictures. “Then how did you end up taking these?”

“Got lucky,” he said with a chuckle. “That building is right outside my apartment window.”

Christ. How careless of her. Time to stop using rooftops. Or at least, all the rooftops in the vicinity of Sam’s apartment.

“Well? Can you put the layout together?” Sam asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Or, if you want, we could do it together when you’re done writing. Let me know and we can meet up at the café downstairs?”

Her eyes snapped back to his where she expected to find some sort of come-hither gaze, but instead found nothing but his casual smile. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

He blinked once, twice, then said, “Well, shit, I guess I did.”

Something about his smile disarmed her better than any piece of shit she frequently came across on the street. “I’ll let you know when I’m done, Sam.”

He smiled again as he turned for her door. “See you soon.”

* * *

Coffee in hand, Y/N returned to their corner of the café and collapsed into her overstuffed chair. Beside her Sam sat on a stool, laptop resting on his thighs and a full mug beside him.

“What do you think of this?”

He turned his laptop to her and scrolled through the article, his photographs—of her, God dammit all to hell—interspersed throughout the page. She would need to be more careful. No more rooftops. Alleys. Stick to alleys, and the likes of Sam Winchester would never—

“Y/N?”

Her focus returned at the sound of his voice. He had stopped scrolling and started at her, concern clouding his face. Under such scrutiny, Y/N shifted in her seat. “What?”

“I asked you a question,” he said. “How does this look?”

“It’s uh,” she started, but the bell over the door of the café snagged her attention. Three large men entered the café, and while Y/N might not have had a sixth sense or heightened hearing or any sort of fictional superhero nonsense, she didn’t need any of that bullshit. She knew those men, had seen them on the streets of her city countless nights.

“Dammit, Dolohova,” she spat.

“Who?”

Her glare snapped back to him. “Sam, I need you to listen to me,” she started.

“Does it need a footer?” he asked as he frowned, oblivious to the danger. But that wasn't his fault. With his back to the café, there was no way he could know.

“It needs a footer,” he confirmed as he looked back to the laptop.

“I'm not talking about the article,” Y/N snapped as she grabbed his shoulder. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Something is about to happen in here and I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Ow, hey, what are you—”

“Sh!” she hissed as she gave him a rough shake. “Look at me. Three men just walked in here looking like they owned the place. They probably do. Or their boss does.”

Sam started to turn, but Y/N shook him again. “Don’t! Keep your eyes on me. Smile. Act like we’re really on a date.”

“I thought we—”

She cut him off with a hard kiss, intent on protecting him and everyone in the café. At least, that’s what she told herself. Though a treat loomed, Y/N could not deny the fact that she thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of Sam on her lips, his tongue eagerly delving into her mouth, and his soft gasp that lilted into a moan.

When she parted from him, Sam slowly opened his eyes and said, “So we are on a real date?”

“Yes, but this date is about to get really fucking weird,” she growled. “Here’s the plan. We’ll keep making out for seven minutes, then I’ll head to the bathroom. You’ll follow me no sooner than twenty-seven seconds later. Count in your head. Don’t look at your watch. They’ll think we’re going in there to fuck, so that’ll be a good cover.”

“Wait, I’m confused—”

“Sam, I need you to trust me,” Y/N interrupted. “This café has been paying Dolohova’s mob for ‘protection’. And by protection, I mean destruction. Those enforcers are collecting the monthly payment. If the café doesn’t pay, Dolohova’s men wreck the place and buy it out from the owner.”

He stared at her with such aghast shock, Y/N thought she had sprouted a second head. His wide hazel eyes flicked between hers as though searching, but for what she couldn’t be sure. Then his smile spread across his lips—fuck, but he was pretty—and his gaze softened. His hand slipped into her hair as he neared her, lips brushing hers as he spoke.

“I’ve been on the Dolohova case for nearly a year,” he whispered. “And you had all the answers the whole time.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam, I couldn’t tell you,” she breathed. “It’s… I’m—”

“Moonlighter.”

The shock of cold dread slammed into her stomach like a hard-high knee. “I am.”

“My girlfriend is a superhero,” he whispered as he kissed along her jaw.

“Okay, first, I’m not your girlfriend, and second, I’m not a superhero,” she said. “I’m just a person.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, “I’ve been following Moonlighter for months. I’ve seen what you can do.”

Her eyes rolled closed as his sealed his lips on the pulse point of her neck. “Alright, fine, so I’m kinda strong.”

“You throw men twice your size through plate-glass. And you know about fifteen different forms of martial arts,” he stated.

God dammit. “I’m going to ignore all of that,” she started as she shoved him back. When she stood, Y/N forced her best smile to her lips. “Twenty-seven seconds. Start counting.”

She turned on her heel and withdrew her phone from her pocket as she headed for the bathroom. Mismatched chairs and tables crowded the small café, and Y/N navigated the space so that, by the time she neared the end of the counter, she was within arm’s reach of the nearest enforcer.

“We don’t have it,” the woman behind the register said. “That’s almost double last month.”

“Services have expanded,” one of the enforcers said. “So, price goes up. You pay now, we leave. You don’t, we stay and…”

He turned over his shoulder as Y/N passed them, her face buried in her phone as she giggled to herself. Once she rounded the corner, she returned her phone to her pocket and flattened herself against the wall.

“We stay and clean up.”

That was all the confirmation she needed.

Y/N darted into the bathroom and immediately stripped. Beneath her casual blouse and slacks, she wore a suit black as night, the material unknown to her. She hadn’t been about to ask her tailor questions, though. Where he got the material was his business. All that mattered to her was that it stopped bullets and knives.

Over her head she pulled on her full mask and lifted the cowl as she glanced in the mirror. Two white orbs provided her full peripheral view, unimpeded by the cowl or the mask itself. The last of her suit came together in flat boots designed for maximum flexibility, and a pair of gloves to keep her prints out of the game.

And then she withdrew the most iconic piece of her identity from her purse. The small silvery cylinder concealed easily in her palm as the door of the bathroom creaked open and Sam slipped inside. The deadbolt locked behind him, and Y/N hoped it confirmed their ruse. She turned for the window nearby only to freeze as Sam startled.

“Holy shit.”

She wheeled about, coiled like a spring. “What?!”

“I… it’s not that I didn’t believe you,” Sam started. “I did. Those men… they’re starting to argue with the owner. But I didn’t really think…”

She lifted her mask and ran into his arms, lips landing on his for a quick kiss. “You didn’t really think your girlfriend was a superhero.”

“I thought you said you weren’t my girlfriend.”

Y/N righter her mask as she darted back to the window and opened it. With a flick of her thumb, she released the spring on the silver cylinder in her palm, and the six-foot bo staff extended with a sharp _crack_. Over her shoulder she said, “I am now.”

With that, she leapt through the window and into the darkness of night.

* * *

From single to dating a superhero in fifteen minutes, Sam reeled. So deep in thought, he barely heard the shouting from the cafe, and it wasn’t until a bullet burst through the tile of the bathroom that he remembered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—_shit_.”

A shower of tile and bullets rained down on him as Sam hit the floor and crawled to the door. There he unlocked the bolt and crouched through the door into the hallway near the register. With his back to the wall, he peaked around the frame and his jaw might as well have hit the floor.

Y/N whirled between the three men as though she were made of water and they of stone. Faster than lightning, she struck with her staff, cracking wrists and fingers and ankles, disarming and disabling. A vicious angled strike slashed the pointed tip of her staff down one man’s face, and he collapsed to the floor screaming, both hands clasped over one eye.

In that moment’s breath to disable one of the men, the other two had recovered their weapons.

“Stop!”

The bull man’s bellow echoed through the café. Screams of terrified patrons followed, hot on the heels of his commands.

“Leave, Night-Light,” the big man said.

“It’s Moonlighter,” the second man corrected.

“Whatever! I don’t care! Leave, or we kill everyone in here,” the bull-man roared.

A second ticked past, Y/N coiled with her staff in both hands. But then she relaxed, her weight on one foot and a hand on her hip. Her head cocked to one side as she spoke. “You know, I get how you Russians haggle and win. You’re terrible at it.”

“What?!” Bull-Man said.

“_Leave or we kill everyone in here_,” she mocked in an impressive Russian accent, and Sam had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “You sound like some sort of bad movie villain. In fact, everything about this,” she paused as she gestured to the café, “screams Bad Superhero Movie.”

Bull-Man bellowed another roar of rage as he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Six shots in quick succession missed their mark, deflected by the whirling silver blur that was Y/N’s staff. Repeated clicks of an empty pistol followed, and Bull-Man tossed it aside.

True to his size, he charged headlong into Y/N. She sidestepped him with practiced ease and vaulted into the air with her bo staff readied. A streak of silver flashed as she whipped the end of her staff around to strike the side of the giant man’s neck, the snap of bone audible clear across the cafe where Sam yet hid in the shadows of the hallway.

The man dropped to the floor in a heap, his massive body an unmoving lump. Y/N turned then to the remaining enforcer and shook her head as though shocked to see him still aiming his gun at her. He seemed to struggle with his options, glancing first to the door, then to the back of the café where Sam hid.

“Really?” she asked.

The man whirled about, and after a beat, dropped his gun. His hands shot into the air, and not a second later, police sirens rose in the distance, still miles away.

“And that’s my cue,” Y/N said as she strode to the man. A flick of her wrist snapped the staff across the backs of his knees as she passed him, and he crumpled to the floor howling. Seemingly satisfied, she loped the length of the café to the rear where she reunited with Sam.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she declared.

“That was insane,” Sam corrected. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

She grabbed him by the back of his upper arm and hauled into the bathroom again. “These are the rules. If we’re gonna be together, you get to know who I am, no lies. But that’s the price you pay. You get to know who I am. You get to live with that constant fear that someone is finally gonna get the best of me, and I might die. I’m not stopping. Not for a relationship. I know who I am as a person. Not as a superhero. And these are my convictions. I don’t expect you to be okay with any of that, but those are my terms, and—”

Sam lunged, and as much as he wanted to believe that he had caught her unaware, he knew she had let him pick her up and carry her into a stall. She tore her mask from her head, and he kissed her as hard as she had kissed him in the café.

Though the police sirens howled miles away, Y/N tore at his pants, buckle and zipper opening beneath her fingers. Sam parted from her in a breathless gasp and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m on a massive adrenaline rush, and after you manhandled me into this stall, I’m sopping wet, and you are way too hot not to finish what you started,” she said.

Her honesty—not to mention the language she chose—stiffened his cock, straining against his tight boxers. And yet, as the sirens continued to grow louder, he hesitated. “The cops—”

“Will be here in six minutes. Think you can satisfy us both that fast?”

He dropped her to her feet, grabbed her by the hips and spun her to face the wall. Pleased, Y/N moaned as he shoved her against the wall and pinned her to it with his entire body. He grasped at her suit until he found a seam at her hips, and the material bunched as he shoved it to her ankles. Her back arched as though presenting herself to him, a subtle shimmer coating her sex, and Sam wasted no more of the precious seconds they had left.

He shoved his pants to his knees and withdrew himself from his underwear, the waistband hooked under his sac. When he looked up to find Y/N staring, a familiar sting burned in his cheeks. “What?”

She licked her lips, then spoke. “Oh, I have a feeling I’m going to be more than satisfied.”

“Yeah?” He dragged the tip through her arousal, coating himself as her lips spread for him. “You like it?”

“I’ll know when you’re—_oh, fuck me, Sam_.”

His hips snapped, slamming his cock into her completely. “Holy shit, you feel so damn good, Y/N.”

“Five minutes,” she stated as she bucked her hips. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll take care of myself on you.”

Sam withdrew and set his grueling pace, hips pumping into her ass in quick snaps. Y/N grasped his wrist and pulled it from her hip to shove his hand between her thigh. “Four and a half minutes. You’ve got a lot of work to do, Sam Winchester.”

Fuck. “Like this?” he asked as he rubbed furious circles around her swollen clit.

“Harder,” she moaned.

Sam thrust as hard as he could, the slaps of their bodies echoing in the tiled bathroom. Y/N moaned so loud, he knew anyone left in the café could hear her, but he didn’t care. If anything, it only heightened his arousal.

“Two and a half,” she breathed. “I’m close, baby. You feel so damn good with that big fat cock inside me.”

“Oh, god, Y/N, you keep talking like that, I’m gonna come,” he growled.

“Do it, Sam,” she hissed. “Come in me. Come inside my pussy.”

He ground his teeth as he grasped her hip with his free hand. “No, I want you to come first.”

“Sixty seconds, then, honey,” she mewled. “I’m so close, keep going.”

His grip on her backside adjusted, and his thumb pressed to her asshole. A shriek of surprise lilted into a moan so lascivious, Sam growled in his effort to hold back. “Come for me, Y/N. Come on my cock.”

Rapid shudders coursed down her spine as the walls of her cunt squeezed and spasm. “Yes, Sam, harder. Fuck me, baby, keep going. Thirty seconds.”

“I… fuck I can’t—”

Another wild wail filled the bathroom as Y/N unraveled, her entire body writhing in her release. A fresh coating of her arousal gathered on his cock as he continued to thrust into her pussy, his own orgasm ravaging his entire body. His cock twitched a hard, prolonged flex as he came, balls emptied into her as he buried himself inside her.

The police sirens exploded as several cars raced down the streets connected to the back alley of the café. Y/N moved swift as a cat, cleaned and clothes righted in a blur of arms and hands. When she turned and found Sam still reeling from his orgasm, a pink hue colored her cheeks.

“Five minutes and forty-five seconds,” she said as she slipped her mask over her face. “Meet me at my apartment in an hour?”

Sam righted his pants as he followed her from the stall. “Yeah, right after I talk to the police.”

She pushed the open window aside and stepped onto the ledge. “Make sure you're outside in about ten minutes.”

“Why?”

She hopped into the alley as she said, “You'll need a few more photographs to go with my article on Moonlighter!”


End file.
